The Home Of The Holmes Brothers
by What's'SupWitChu
Summary: After the tragic death of their parents Mycroft becomes the legal guardian of 16 year old Sherlock. Together they must accept their parent's fate and learn to live together. These are some of the key moments and how they affect their relationship. Just brotherly love!


**A/N: People of earth, good day to you all! I just can't stop writing at the moment and I hope you aren't getting sick of me yet. So, yet another story about the Holmes brothers appears *Gasp*. This story is non-canon and will explore the brother's relationship when Sherlock goes to live with Mycroft after their parent's deaths. **

**There won't necessarily be a firm plot line I don't think, just a mixture of angsty; fluffy and domestic chapters because I just love to write about these two XD There will be OOCness throughout to pre-warn you all, although I hope you enjoy it!**

**Trigger Warning: Minor Characters Deaths**

**Reviews would be loved :) xx**

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**Chapter 1: Moving In**

The atmosphere in the cab was silent and tense. Mycroft sat, straight postured as ever holding his umbrella in his lap; although his grip may have been a little tighter than usual. Sherlock sat next to his brother staring out the window, but not really concentrating on the world which rushed by him.

They were on their way to Mycroft's flat, well, _their_ flat; Sherlock was about to take up permanent residence there too. The brothers had just been to their parent's funeral and so neither of them quite knew what to say to the other as they had never been much of an affectionate family.

Violet and Siger Holmes had died in a car accident not a week earlier, and so now everything had changed for the Holmes brothers. Though Sherlock was 16 and thrived in making his own decisions and insisting he did not need to be 'babied', he was still in school and needed a legal guardian until he was 18. Mycroft had of course offered right away (well it was never just an offer, he would make sure it happened), even though he was only 23 years of age.

The news of their parents' death had been a terrible shock, but the Holmes brothers were not ones to take other peoples' condolences to mean anything or outwardly express their grief. That was of course not to say they did not love their parents, but they had been raised to believe that when bad things happen, life goes on and the past was not something to be dwelled on.

They had picked up the remainder of Sherlock's things after the service and had been forced to say goodbye to their childhood home. Although Mycroft would inherit it, he felt it would be too painful to hold on to without their family to fill it anymore. When they had locked the door for the last time, Mycroft could have sworn he heard Sherlock sniff, but the younger brother had ducked his head and rubbed his eyes. Mycroft wished he could be more consoling, but it would not really be in either of their natures.

Once they arrived at Mycroft's flat, the elder brother paid the cab driver and carried the last box of Sherlock's things into the flat; Sherlock silently insisted on hanging onto the case which carried his violin himself. Mycroft's flat was on the ground floor and was very wooden, the decor expressing his unusual taste. It was nowhere near as homely as the house with their parents, but Mycroft had thought it would only ever be him living there.

"Your room is this way" the older Holmes said and Sherlock followed him down the hall.

The younger Holmes had only visited his brother once or twice before, mainly when he needed somewhere quite to think. He knew Mycroft would not interrupt him or even try and engage him in conversation for just randomly turning up at his doorstep; the brothers had never seen need for such pleasantries.

"It's quite plain, but I suppose we could decorate it to suit you more if you would like?" Mycroft suggested once they reached the room. He wanted his brother to feel comfortable. He had always felt an unquantifiable amount of responsibility towards Sherlock, and he supposed that was truer than ever now.

Sherlock shrugged in response and Mycroft frowned concernedly; the younger Holmes was yet to say a word since the funeral. "I'll go make some tea, leave you to unpack your things" Mycroft said, deciding privacy was maybe what Sherlock needed right now.

The older Holmes sighed as he left the room; he could already tell he was not cut out to be a parent, but he supposed he didn't have to be, just so long as he could step out of his comfort zone for now and be there for Sherlock, they would be okay.

As Mycroft busied himself making tea - more for the distraction rather than to quench his thirst - he heard the low sombre notes of Sherlock playing his violin. Mycroft tried to ignore the light shakiness of his hands as he stirred the sugar in the cups, but eventually he had to sit down at the kitchen table and bury his head in his hands with despair.

He would not cry; he refused to; he had to stay strong for Sherlock's sake. He just wished he had made more of an effort to see his parents and his brother the past few years. He wished he knew what to do to make things right, but for once he was at a loss and the events were out of his control.

Eventually, the music faded away and Mycroft took the interval as a chance to take in the tea. When he arrived, Sherlock was curled up on his side on the bed, his eyes glistening but the tears were yet to fall. Mycroft set the tea down on the side table before turning to his brother.

"What would you like for dinner?" The older brother asked.

"I'm not hungry" Sherlock mumbled with a sniff.

"You need to eat" Mycroft said seriously, though he did not exactly have an appetite himself at that moment in time. "I'm going to take care of you, Sherlock" he added just as factually.

"You shouldn't have to" Sherlock said with a shaky voice "it's not fair. Mummy and Father are gone and…it's just not fair!" He turned away then and wiped his eyes with heavy breaths - he was ashamed of himself for losing control in front of Mycroft.

"Sherlock..." Mycroft said gently as he lay down next to his brother - it was an uncommon sign of affection, but perhaps they both needed it even if they didn't quite know it. "I'm having a hard time believing it too, the world can be so cruel, but Mummy and Father would not want us to give in; they raised us stronger than that. It's me and you against the world now, and I think we could actually survive this without ripping each other's heads off."

Sherlock let out the slightest hint of laughter before turning to face his brother again. There were streaks running down his cheeks and Mycroft had to try really hard to keep himself composed at the sight of his distraught little brother, but even the Holmes brothers needed to grieve after such a huge loss.

"We'll be okay?" Sherlock asked as he wiped his eyes.

"We'll be okay" Mycroft replied with a light smile.

To his surprise Sherlock moved across the bed so he was pressed up against his brother's chest and buried his face in Mycroft's neck. The last time Sherlock had sought such contact with his brother was when he was very young and had a nightmare, but then Mycroft supposed the teenager must feel like he was in a living nightmare right now; he sure did.

"We'll be okay" Mycroft said again as he nuzzled his nose into the top of Sherlock's curly hair "I promise"

The brothers remained like that until they eventually fell asleep.


End file.
